


Anniversary Edition: 1953

by Raepocalypse



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: 50's AU, F/M, Fluff, Gen, anniversary event, anniversary skins, cruiser d.va, disgustingly cute ew, first I love yous, jazzy lucio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-17 11:53:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11274876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raepocalypse/pseuds/Raepocalypse
Summary: Written as a commission for @hanjosi on twitter!1953, smack in the middle of the height of Drive In popularity. Hana and Lucio are old hats at the drive in drill and are prepared for date night.





	Anniversary Edition: 1953

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was done as a commission and is not beta'd because I ran out of time. Sorry I didn't make it in time for the event to be still going when it went up! Hope you guys enjoy it!  
> Things that are ignored entirely to make continuity make sense, because this fic was only meant to be 1-3k and not a study in 50's politics and civil rights like I absolutely could have done:  
> -Setting. I don't know where they are, but everyone is here and there are drive ins  
> -Civil rights. Everyone's rights are fine, I guess because I don't have time or patience to build an entire world around this.  
> -Jobs. This isn't actually ambiguous, but it's worth mentioning bc I kind of want to do a follow up with Hana the mechanic. Lucio is a musician of some kind idk.  
> -Character mentions. I just tossed some folks in bc I love everyone in this bar.  
> -Weird stuff. Look I just wanted to have Hana beat someone up don't look at me.

“No,” Hana aid flatly, leaning against the baby blue of the car and inspecting her nails. Grimy. She needed to get them done. Somehow, no matter what gloves she wore, the cars always destroyed her nails. 

“Come on, now, sweetheart,” he tried again, moving closer to her and boxing her in against the car. 

Looking up from her nailbeds, she tilted the sunglasses down, peering at him over the gold rim. “Sorry, maybe you didn’t understand me. I said  _ no _ . That means move along.” Her small hand pressed to his chest and gave a push, urging him away from her and the car. 

From the storefront, she heard a low whistle. “Oh, somebody is in for some hurt, huh?”

Peeking around the man’s shoulder, Hana caught sight of Lucio coming from inside, sax at his back and hands full of bags. “What are you planning to do?” the man jeered, giving him a once over. 

“Nothin’,” Lucio shrugged, moving around to the other side of the car. 

“You-” Before he could continue, he was flat on his back, however, arm twisted behind him and one red-shoed foot rammed against his back. 

Pushing her glasses back into place, Hana shot a glare at the group the man had come from, then delivered a last stomp before she released him to hop over the door and into the driver’s seat. 

“I can’t leave you alone for five minutes,” Lucio sighed, shaking his head and stealing his sunglasses back from her face. “You are straight trouble, girl.”

Peeling out from the lot, more for show than anything else, she let out a laugh. “Hold onto your hat, daddy-o. We don’t want to be late.”

As she sped down the highway, Lucio tucked his hat down toward his feet for safekeeping, tilting his sunglasses to get a better look at the radio as they drove. Every channel they passed, however, was useless. Nothing decent on at all. With a huff, he flopped back into his seat. 

“Aw, my music snob. Don’t worry. We’re almost there,” Hana laughed, reaching across and patting his thigh gently. 

Again, he rolled his eyes, but his hand landed on top of hers for a moment. “Cause somebody’s drivin’ eighty miles an hour. Both hands on the wheel, huh?” With a squeeze, he lifted her pale hand again and placed it back on the wheel. 

Pouting, she shot a look back at him. “Like I would let anything happen to my baby - or you, I guess.” 

When she winked, he gave up on conversation for now and turned the radio up. Doo-wop had never been his favorite, didn’t have enough heart in it, but it was about all that came in on these stations and she was laying it on a little thick today. (Probably because it was their anniversary, but that wasn’t any excuse, really.)

(He did relent the next time her hand came down on his, though. Only because she lowered the speed a little, and not at all because of the puppy eyes she shot him.)

When their destination came into sight, she hit the brakes again, slowing just enough that they didn’t both go flying out of the car when she came around the turn. 

“Why do you have to drive like that?” he grumbled, clutching the car with gloved hands as she slowed for the line of cars at the gate. 

“You love me,” she joked, poking at his side. She grinned when he sighed and leaned over to kiss her cheek. 

“You know I do, Junebug. Don’t mean you gotta try to give me a heart attack every time we’re in the car.”

Swatting him away, she turned her grin to the girl at the ticket booth. “Two people, please,” she singsonged. 

Paid up, Hana drove on while Lucio fussed with the radio again to get to the right station and turn on the music they played along with the shorts before the film. “Should we get popcorn? I know you got drinks before at the corner store, but popcorn goes with every movie.”

Pressing another kiss to her cheek, Lucio popped the door and headed out. “You got it, diva. Be right back.”

She beamed at him as he headed out, then headed for the back where she’d stashed the blankets and pillows before. Already, the place was filling up, but that tended to be how it always was on a Friday at the drive in. She recognized a few familiar faces - Morrison, with the truck she’d fixed more times than she could count. At some point, he’d have to just get a new one. Zarya heading for the concessions and clapping the equally massive Reinhardt’s shoulder as she passed. Roadhog by the fence, boosting Junkrat up and over so they could get in for free. (She had no idea how Roadhog was supposed to get over, but she was distracted quickly enough.) 

“Here, Junebug, I got ya,” Lucio called, sliding forward faster and settling the drinks and snacks on the hood so he could help spread out the blankets. “Looks like the whole town turned out, huh? Met McCree at the stand. Didn’t think he watched any movie that didn’t have tumbleweeds as a main plot point.”

“Or six shooters,” she shot back, crawling into the nest they’d made and leaning forward to tune the radio into the right channel. The happy jingle encouraging them to go get something to munch while they watched was ignored. In minutes, the pair of them were curled up together, popcorn on Hana’s lap and Lucio’s arm around her shoulders. They stayed like that through most of the movie, through half the bucket of popcorn, half of Lucio’s drink, and all of Hana’s. They stayed safe and warm, curled up in one another and pretending they were here for the movie more than they were here to snuggle in public. 

“Hey,” he mumbled, lips pressed to her temple. As though he needed to get her attention before he spoke. As if the sound of his voice didn’t capture it instantly without fail. 

“Hm?” she asked, as though he needed to be told she was listening. As if there were anything he said that she didn’t commit to memory. 

His hand reached for hers, fingers lacing together. The popcorn was long since abandoned in the floorboards, tucked safely between Hana’s flats where it wouldn’t spill. “I love you,” he mumbled. 

Her eyes finally pulled from the movie to see him looking at their hands, where his thumb was brushing gently over her skin. Nerves. She’d seen him on stage in front of thousands. She’d seen him face down guys like Roadhog. She’d seen him greet trouble and trials with a grin that didn’t falter, a confidence that never wavered and she tried to imagine in what world he could think that  _ this _ could be nerve wracking.  

“I love you, too,” she replied finally. Hana gave his hand a squeeze and leaned in, snagging a soft kiss to the corner of his lips, then another proper one when he looked up. Too much relief on that face. What other answer could there be? What on earth had he expected. 

He let out a laugh, earning them a glare from the car beside them. (Apparently that had been a poor moment for a laugh. Too late now.) Forgetting about the popcorn, or perhaps just not caring, he scooped her up and pulled her closer to press kisses along the side of her face, leaving her making very attempt not to giggle during what turned out to be a very serious, heart-wrenching screen moment. 

“Stop it!,” she snorted. “Lucio, you’re gonna make me laugh and Morrison will come over here to check up on us and think we’re getting frisky at the drive in!”

He let out another snort, but relented then. They didn’t want to see that. They didn’t want to deal with it. It hadn’t been pretty when he’d done that to Genji and he had, for once,  _ not _ been guilty of that accusation. “Happy anniversary, Junebug,” he mumbled, face pressed to her shoulder. 

“Happy anniversary, Daddy-o,” she replied, poking him in the ribs and making him laugh once more. 

Despite the shushing they both did after that, they were still interrupted by Morrison and with burning cheeks reminded that the drive in is  _ not _ a place for unseemly conduct. 


End file.
